


I Fucking Love Berlin

by casstayinmyass



Category: Atomic Blonde (2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Bottom Merkel, David Says Fuck A Lot, Lap Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Smoking, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 12:01:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13271040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Percival just wanted to unwind, but that hot, aggravatingly skilled little fuck from the bureau just had to go and break into his house.





	I Fucking Love Berlin

David Percival was a busy man with a busy life. When he got home after work, he rarely liked being disturbed by anybody unless they had a nice rack to show for it. Otherwise, he preferred to use his private time to recover from all the contact he had made with the general public while being out on the job. He wasn't much of a people person, evidently; _it’s not me, it’s them,_ was Percival's personal motto when it came to avoiding social shit, a motto he carried with him when it came to taking any form of responsibility. It really wasn’t his fault at all that people were cunts. 

It was miraculous how easily a bloke like him could attract women, with an attitude like he had. Of course, it wasn’t _all_ that surprising with his looks and killer body, if he did say so himself, but none of them stuck around, because people were cunts, and David, a person, fell under that umbrella-- if you asked anyone close to him, he definitely qualified for that category. 

The agent locked the door to his apartment, tossed the key god-knows-where in his heap of books he hadn't touched in years, and flicked a lighter to the end of the cigarette dangling from his mouth. Taking a deep drag, he squinted blue eyes through the wisps of smoke, and flopped down into his couch.

David regarded the mess around his place with perfect contentment. He knew where everything of his was, and better yet, if it was messy, no one else did.  

Instead of worrying over how organized his “base” was, the bottle of Bourbon on the table beside him found its way into his hands. He took a shot of the liquor fast in a nearby glass, licked his lips with a satisfied grimace, and flipped the cigarette between his fingers a few times.

His mind got to wandering. Hopefully playing buddy cop to Lorraine would pay off-- he wasn’t doing this shit for fun. He rubbed his face with the heel of his palms, letting out a long sigh.

_Well… that wasn’t entirely true._

His job wasn't the worst one out there. He could be Stalin's fucking electrician or some shit like that. As well, he considered the people he would be working with on this particularly exciting task. There was Lorraine of course, who he didn’t know how to feel about. She was self-assured and very capable, probably more so than David himself, but she was cold, and David couldn’t read her, something he prided himself on being able to do, so that scared him more than he was willing to admit. There was Spyglass, who was a ferret-faced, fidgety little fellow, but strangely trustworthy… then there was Merkel.

A smirk slowly appeared on Percival’s face as he dragged on his cigarette, chuckling.

Gordon Merkel was a young join-up from East Berlin, the resounding “voice of dissatisfied youth”. He was a crafty kid, David would give him that, and a tall drink of water as well—with no small amount of shamelessness, he would admit to watching those lips as Merkel spoke to Lorraine, staring at his long legs whenever he walked by, or admiring just how well eyeliner worked on a man when done right.

Yea, people were cunts, but the cunts in Berlin weren’t as big as the rest of the cunts, solely for the reason that their men and women were all thoroughly fuckable, significantly more so than Britain's. That’s ultimately what David cared about, what he didn’t mind about working here… it was, all around, a pretty okay place.

The smirk on his face disappeared as he heard a creak behind a pile of books.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered, and held his cigarette between his teeth as he put his drink down. "Can't get a moment's peace."

He reached down the seat of his couch, pulled out a 9mm, and took a careful step toward the source of the sound, creeping toward the piles in the corner of the room, checking behind them… to find absolutely nothing at all.

“Huh,” Percival mumbled, scratching his head with the barrel of the gun.

“Guten Tag!”

David jumped, whipping around and cocking the gun right in the face of…

“Merkel?” David breathed, “The fuck are you doing here?! I could’ve just blown my brains out, was the safety off?” he checked. “Aw fuck me, the safety was fucking off, Merkel, what the fuck!?”

Merkel waited patiently for Percival to finish his tirade of curse words.

“-Thought you were some fucker trying to kill me in my own house, but no, it’s just _you_ … hold on, no— _just_ you, what the fuck am I _saying_ , what are you doing in my fucking house?”

“I was doing nothing in your fucking house,” Gordon replied simply in that accent Percival tried very hard to forget every time he heard it, and the station chief grabbed the younger man roughly by his collar.

“You’re doing Lorraine’s dirty work, aren’t you?” He rolled his eyes, letting him go with a throaty growl. “God, you’re like her fucking lap dog, you know that?” He rubbed a hand over his buzzed scalp, toned muscles flexing in the grey wifebeater he had on, and Merkel's eyes fell to them. 

“I... would argue that I am more of a cat,” Merkel cocked his head, “Cats are stealthy, and do not get caught. You, though…” he chuckled a little, “You are a dog.”

“Fuck off,” David scrunched up his face, feeling as if he needed to unload as many curse words he could to express his raging displeasure at another agent's uninvited presence in his house, especially one of Lorraine's.

“If it makes you feel any better, I did not make any progress. You found me before I could,” Merkel shrugged. 

“What were you trying to do then, you little shit?” David groaned lazily, resting against his counter. He wasn't even angry anymore-- just fucking done.

“I’m sorry, but that is between Lorraine and myself,” Gordon replied with the hint of a smile remaining, and David wished he could wipe that perpetual cocky smirk off his face. Where did he get off breaking into his boss’s partner’s house, anyway?!

_And how the hell did he do it? This place's locks could knock a code hacker flat on their ass._

Ah, yeah. Merkel: crafty.

There was _one_ way David could get information out of him… but he wasn’t in the mood. He wasn’t in the mood for any of this shit right now, he just really, really needed to relax.

“Out. Out of my house.” He made a shooing motion as if he were shooing... well, a cat.

“I... am afraid that is not possible,” Merkel mused, holding up one slender finger, nails painted black as the threadbare fingerless gloves he wore, “You see, I promised Lorraine I would accomplish the mission she gave me no matter what, and unfortunately, my mission is not yet completed.”

“Well, fuck if I’m letting you complete it while I watch, you ninny,” David sputtered, dragging on his dwindling cigarette. _Who did this kid think he was?!_

“You don’t know what my mission is yet,” Merkel returned in that same cocky tone that dared David to challenge him, and David whipped around, ready to punch him clean out, but Merkel grabbed the fist, twisted his arm back painfully, and brought him down flat on his back.

“How did that just happen?” David whined, and Merkel kept his green eyes locked on David’s.

“This is how you survive underground in East Berlin.” With two long fingers, Merkel plucked the cigarette that had miraculously stayed between David’s lips, taking a drag. He looked at it.

“Not bad. Did you roll this yourself?”

“Get off,” David grumbled, and kicked Merkel in the back, sending the kid wincing and standing up again. "We're not making conversation, because you're getting out of my living room, you hacker prodigy."

"Hacking is part of my job--"

"Anyway, good chat. Now fuck off."

“You have a nice house. I would like to stay a while,” Merkel said, taking off his scarf.

David spent a long time staring at Merkel, eyes raking over his nice form, then folded his arms. _Focus, Percy, fuck sake!_

“Why, so you can wait for Lorraine to come pick you up from school, drive you home to mommy?” he leered back. Taking out his gun again behind his back, he prepared to use the heel of it to knock Merkel out and return him to his supposed mission partner.

“I will catch up with her later,” Merkel replied cryptically, "And my parents were both killed in an explosion when I was fourteen years old." Percival sighed, biting his lip. 

“Sorry. Really, that's a hard life." He offered a slap to his shoulder, blue eyes telling Merkel he meant the sentiment honestly, "But are you never the least bit peeved off by me treating you like the juvenile that you are?”

Merkel turned, laughing, and David didn’t know what to make of the way Merkel was looking at him. “It is true, I am young. There is no need to skirt around the fact, and you are doing a wonderful job of _not_ ignoring it." He wrung his hands out, then ran a hand through the hair on the top of his head that hadn't been shaved. "Also, I came to the conclusion that it would not be a smart idea to antagonize a man who is about to attack me with the heel of his gun.”

“Bollox,” David muttered, and Merkel rushed him, an apologetic look on his face. It all happened in a blur—David saw a flash of dark blue as Merkel’s scarf wrapped around his neck, and the taller man circled behind him in a flutter of his coat, leaning in close to his ear.

“I have been equipped with the skills and the instruments to terminate you in seconds, Mr. Percival. I suggest you do not try anything like that again.”

"It's just my fucking lucky day, is it?" David sighed, clenching his jaw.

_Dammit. He kept underestimating him._

Merkel dropped the scarf, and walked around to study David’s eyes. After a second, he began to smile, and nodded.

“Go sit down. I’ll get us some drinks.”

"Dri- no, I-" David groaned, wishing to all hell he could either kill the kid or fuck his brains out—but they were on the same side, so he couldn’t kill him, and Lorraine would probably kill David if he fucked Merkel, so-- 

 _Aw, Christ_. All these unspoken rules made Percival’s god damn head hurt… or maybe that was just the hangover. Or the bruise forming around his eye from that job this morning. Well, it was one of the ten reasons his head could be fucked up.

“Straight?” Merkel asked, and David looked up.

“Eh... when I want to be.”

Merkel hesitated, seemingly amused. “I meant your drink.”

Percival knew very well what Merkel meant—didn’t stop him from toying with the guy a little.

“Yeah. I’ll take mine straight.”

Merkel had his on the rocks.

“Now… to business, Agent Percival,” Merkel nodded, sitting down with his drink. He sat like a rebel teenager would sit—hunched over a little bit, elbow resting on his knee, yet his diplomatic language contradicted his youthful stature. His hair was slicked back, and David could see the speckles of hazel in Merkel’s green irises from the popping of that eyeliner. Those damn eyes drove Percival crazy, and he was already crazy enough on his own.

_Fuck it. Fuck this. Lorraine and Merkel can both go to hell._

“No, we’re not gonna deal with your fuckin’ business, we’re gonna deal with mine.”

Again, Merkel hesitated, watching the Brit curiously. After what felt like an eternity of contemplation, the silence was broken.

“Please,” he finally invited, holding out a hand.

“Why did you really come here?” David asked, voice a little lower this time. Merkel took a sip of his drink, and hummed thoughtfully as he articulated an answer for him best he could.

“To do something Lorraine was not willing to do.” Merkel’s eyes travelled down David’s exposed throat, down to his chest. “She will go some lengths, but I, on the other hand, am up for anything.” He shrugged. "I'm 25, and I think I am immortal."

“I don’t know…" David eyed him, "Lorraine strikes me as a bird who’ll try anything once, you catch what I'm getting at?”

“Mmm... you are right. But she is much different in the bedroom than she is at work."

David just about balked. _Lorraine was fucking her assistant? Figures... the ballsy minx beat him to the punch every fucking time, the genius._

Merkel quickly held up a hand. "Do not take that the wrong way. It was one time, she was lonely, and... well, what can an assistant do except assist?" David's jaw was still slightly slack. "--As I was saying, Agent Percival... why try everything only once when you’re just getting good at it?” He was in on the game, and David knew it.

“You know, I don’t know you very well, Merkel. What’s your first name?” David asked, stalling a little. Merkel looked surprised, but he swallowed it. 

“...Gordon.” 

“Gordon…” David grinned, and leaned forward in his chair. _Take this Lorraine._  “Is that what you want me to whisper while you’re sucking my cock?”

For Merkel’s part, he did not seem to react as suddenly as David had expected. His lips simply parted, pupils dilating a fraction.

“That why you’ve come then, eh?” David murmured, “To finally get a taste?” Merkel continued to stare. “Come on, double-o seven. No need to stick in stealth mode. Every babe and bloke in the agency wants to fuck me, it's no secret." He parted his legs, and gestured to his bulge. After another one of his famously long contemplations, Merkel fell to his knees, and began to unzip the British station chief’s trousers.

 _Well alright then…_ this is not how the station chief believed today would go, but he wasn’t one to refuse a blow job from a man with dark eyes like that staring up at him.

When Merkel started to suck the tip, David actually groaned. “How… the _fuck_ , did you learn how to suck cock this good?”

“You learn a lot of things around here,” Merkel told him, going back down on him.

David screwed his face up. “The fuck is that supposed to me—oohhh, god… that’s gorgeous, yeah…”

Merkel continued to do with his tongue whatever was making Percival moan that hard, taking off his grey, wool coat with one hand as he held Percival’s dick with the other. He looked hungry for it, yet all the same, perfectly in control.

“Hey,” David snapped his fingers, “Come up here.”

Wasting no time, Merkel complied with the command, and David got his hands down the younger man’s pants, a goal he’d had on his list for a while now. The assistant whined under his grip, and wiggled his hips a little, indicating a rather insistent erection.

“Spit,” Percival whispered, and Merkel coated Percival’s fingers so that he could slip a few in. When he did, the younger man arched his back, mouth falling open in an obscene moan.

“Fuck, you should be fucking _illegal_ ,” Percival shook his head, feeling himself approach his climax just from simply watching Merkel’s slutty display. He kept to himself fairly regularly at the bureau-- or at least whenever Percival saw him-- so this was a side he had never imagined and thanked the father, the son, and the holy ghost for the opportunity to.

Merkel’s hands slid around him on the couch, and Percival  would have come at the contact… if he didn’t feel the wire.

He could feel the bug in his coat, and Percival marveled at how crafty Merkel really was to be able to do that while getting finger fucked on the person he was wiring's lap.

“Oh…. Gordon, yea, you slut,” David murmured, and reached under the couch cushion for the twin brother of his little helper from earlier. Merkel slid his eyes closed as Percival really began to stroke him, and David placed the gun under his jaw. “Let me tell you what..."

"W-what?" Merkel's eyes were fire, and David had to swallow.

"...I’ll give you to the count of three to get this bug off of me.”

Gordon’s eyes went wide, but he did something David was not expecting at all. His eyes hooded, and he took the end of the gun into his mouth, sucking on it.          

“Fuck,” David groaned, and came hard, watching Merkel get off on the danger of sucking a fucking gun barrel into that wet, spit and cum slick mouth. A hand flew to the assistant's neck, and one squeeze was all it took for Merkel to gasp and bite his fist.

They both laid there for a minute on the couch, pretty much even by now by way of death threats and take downs. Neither had the energy to do anything or try anything, which is why their sweat slick bodies now covered the  old, orange velvet piece of furniture. Hygiene wasn't a problem for David... there was probably worse shit on this couch than cum.

“So… you joined the agency on a fetish?” David guessed, a teasing smile forming as he grabbed two cigarettes and lit them. Merkel took the one offered to him, and shrugged.

“I must say, it helps me enjoy the rebellion more and more every day.” He glanced down, smoke pouring from those dirty, swollen lips as he mentally replayed the instructions “ _any means necessary_ ” that Lorraine had given him to bug her mission partner. She knew how Merkel would take that, and simultaneously set him up for a romp she knew he'd been lusting after ever since meeting David Percival. 

_Well, he had finally been successful in the mission objective at least, but he had to make sure David would forget about the wire he had attached during sex._

Gracefully doing some kind of maneuver with his freakishly long legs and sprouting up from the ground, Merkel sauntered over and poured another glass of bourbon. "Another glass?" 

"Hit me."

Merkel poured Percival a glass, then brought the bottle over, taking a long swig right from it and wiping off his lips with his sleeve. “Now, I can’t speak for my fellow discontented young Berliners, but… getting fucked is not a bad way to contribute to the cause, is it Agent Percival?” 

David laughed out loud, putting his hands behind his head, and blew out a plume of smoke as he thought about his job, his current state, and his life.

“I fucking love Berlin.”


End file.
